Letter to the Warrior

A letter to the warrior, written on the April full moon night 2025:

I first met you in the summer of 1976. You smelled of auto paint fumes, your hands were blacked and occasionally you hid M&Ms in the pocket of your boiler suit to surprise me. Greeting me with much joy, you saw me with a fatherly love unmatched by another.

I met you again, shortly after. You performed magic card tricks for me and sang, “You are My Sunshine”. They said that you didn’t like children, but with me, you laughed and delighted in my presence. You taught me never to compromise on those you love, to work hard and enjoy the fruits of your effort. You saw me, and in your heart, my name was Marianne.

You then appeared as a little boy next door. Like magnets, we were drawn together. We liked to strip off our clothes and run wild through the woods. You asked your mum to buy She-Ra for me so that I could play Masters of the Universe with you. Your cousin had a crush on me, but my heart was yours. I was Dorothy and you were my Scarecrow. You saw me, your deep connection next door.

The next time, you fluttered into my life. I was awkward, in that stage of girlhood where breasts sprout and boys notice in a different way. I was shy of this, because I didn’t want to disconnect with you through lust. I wanted to stay united in the innocence of childhood. I wasn’t ready, so I cut my hair, carried a skateboard and learned to act a bit tough. I was called a lesbian by some misunderstanding boys and felt invisible. But at a pool party, in front of all the other children you yelled across the pool, “Naomi, your hair looks great!” You saw me with great delight and taught me the joyful liberation of flirtation.

From a telephone booth in Tokyo, you arrived. Soft, quiet, and masculine down the telephone line. That evening I made you a beaded necklace that you wore with great devotion and secrecy for the next year at school. Our first, deep love. Across continents, you inspired adventure! So much adventure together – never matched and deserves it’s own page. We entered adulthood together, with big dreams and no sense of mortality. You saw me, through your heart and showed me my deeply emotional nature and how to love, understand, respect, and appreciate (LURA).

The next time I met you, you were even more soft and quiet and this time very beautiful and androgynous. You had a very deep existential pain that was expressed through art. I wanted to nurture you and you were delicate with me. Stubborn, but gentle; loving and kind, but awkward. Confused in love, and unable to fly free. You saw me, as an angel.

Briefly, I met you in a different form. A teacher, mentor and wild, stealth Buddha. You advised me to take refuge in theatre, not become a nun. You told me to BE A BITCH. You saw me as a dakini, more powerful than I could understand.

For several years, I couldn’t see you any more. Heartbroken, fixated on the past and overwhelmed by my true blissful nature, I stuffed you away and you became a shadow.

When I met you again, you were a psychopath who was trying to heal. You saw me, intensely and held me so tight you frightened me away. You gave me Britain and taught me how to fight for freedom without judgement.

Just as my sparkle returned, I met you again. This time you were safe, boyish and funny. Your family was kind and united. You brought me back into a family and taught me patience and commitment. You saw me, as power, strength and wisdom. You delivered me back home and told me that it was an honour to do so.

Tattered and worn out having just left the battlefield, you held up the mirror and you reminded me that I’m the naked sky dancer. I exhaled, relaxed and took flight. You protected me as I spread my wings, and encouraged my honesty, expressiveness and enthusiasm – which is now entirely unbound. From this place, across time and space, with awe and profound appreciation, I bow to you, my secret inner pawo. Through this letter I write, I connect with you. I see you, so clearly under this moonlight. Natural and free! Let's dance!